


Evanescent

by Yeolda



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, The LEGO Batman Movie (2017)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Batjokes, Fluff and Angst, I don't recall what I wrote tbh, I swear it's not one of those weird song fics, M/M, Song fic, but fluff, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 12:03:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10189511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yeolda/pseuds/Yeolda
Summary: The Joker and the Dark Knight held quite the peculiar relationship. At least, in Joker's eyes.But sometimes, the stones that seemed so light in the beginning grow heavy as time continues to pass by.Step inside, give it a try.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work! I'm honestly astounded with myself; it only took me two days to piece it together- and I'm usually a major procrastinator. I'm proud with the outcome, so I hope you enjoy it, as well! <3
> 
> Song used: Illenium – Fortress (feat. Joni Fatora) ; Mr.SuicideSheep

Gotham City was nothing short of prosperous. The city was always bustling with activity, even when night fell like a heavy curtain, darkness rippling across the towering buildings and busy streets. The city lit up beautifully, dazzling and glorious; a rival for the stars that glimmered above its citizens. The moon was captivatingly lucent and full in the background, the silver light seeping through every cranny and crevice it could reach.

But the magnificent city harbored sinister secrets, hidden cleverly in the interstices of the city where not even the brilliant lights could reign upon, for menacing shadows denied passage. The horrors that lurk in where there is no light are unfathomable for Gotham’s civilians. Though, they can do nothing when the creatures decide to reign havoc.

One building is shrouded by the dark, located on the outskirts of Gotham City- not too far from the grey bridge between the dark and light sides of Gotham City. It is the Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane, imprisoning the very definitions of calamity. The catastrophic patients are confined and monitored intensely, though they show no hesitation in their actions, devastatingly reckless. They hold no concerns or second thoughts, for their eyes are adjusted to the darkness that they’ve emerged from; it is all they see, lost in their own deranged chambers deep within their minds.

Here, in Arkham Asylum, are Gotham City’s most well-kept secrets; nevertheless, the dark remains unpredictable.

 

> _No light in the distance_

 

An inhumane laugh echoed throughout Arkham’s halls, horridly chilling.

It had escaped from the lips of an infamous madman, who was sitting on the padded floor of his rather miniscule cell, his long legs crossed. He was restrained in a straitjacket, though he held his posture casually, his back pressed comfortably against the equally padded wall. A petrifying grin was plastered on his red lips, spread unnaturally wide, taunting. His face was peculiarly pale, white paint seemingly smeared on his forehead and cheekbones; his haunting green eyes were faintly rimmed with black paint. Long scars were horrifically stretched from the corners of his mouth to his cheeks, capable of representing a monster out of a novel. His coiffed hair was a fierce emerald green, striking yet fitting.

His face was tilted upward, directing his mocking grin up at a dark figure, who was clad in a dark grey bodysuit protected by Kevlar body armor; designed to prevent penetration by bullets. The figure had a cowl with pointed ears pulled over his face, successfully masking his identity; only piercing blue eyes were visible, keen.

The madman before him, however, held the figure’s intense gaze easily, his own mesmerizingly green eyes dancing with lunacy. His absinthe irises clashed with the dull color of his jumpsuit, doing his appearance no justice- ironically.

Silence had swept over them both, almost suffocating, but the two paid no mind to the ringing in their ears; they were too immersed in one another, highly intelligent minds calculating what their next move would be. And, at last, the madman broke the odd tranquility.

He leered up at the figure standing before him, teasingly stating, “Why, Batsy, did you miss me too much?” Hope remained a hidden undertone.

The figure scowled, his voice gravelly as he replied, “Stop fooling around, Joker.” But there was a slight falter in his penetrative gaze; if the other had not been paying attention, the subtle change would have not been noted.

 

> _We were shadows holding on (holding on)_

 

The cowl-donning male was recognized as Batman in Gotham City, seen as venerable as he was seen appalling. He was the sworn protector of the glowing city, constantly up at any hour to keep the streets clear of the criminals who opted to wander into the light and impose havoc.

He was a mysterious, untrustworthy yet heroic figure in the eyes of the city’s occupants, close with authorities thus far independent. Hellbent on order and justice, he is a reserved vigilante that shows no hesitation in taking matters into his own hands.

But despite hate directed to him from some of the public, his identity remains unknown; after all, it is not for who he is underneath, but what he does that defines him.

Yet, the Joker, a psychotic maniac who sat before him in an unceremonious manner, knew who the man glaring down at him was behind the mask.

The notorious male’s smile seemed to have grown impossibly bigger, tilting his head slightly. “Now, now, why so serious?” A demented laugh followed his inquiry, though it failed to faze the vigilante.

Batman took a step forward, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Joker, enough. Where is the key?”

“The key?” Joker tilted his head further, almost reaching a terrifying angle as he pretended to ponder over what the Bat asked. He was referencing toward the Joker’s recent scheme; he may or may have not locked 5 innocent citizens in a high-security warehouse that he had redone, set to crumble to the ground within an hour from rigged explosions.

Shame that they had already figured out his plan. Joker really loved setting off his version of fireworks.  “I have not the slightest clue.” His tone was playful, uncaring.

Batman was not a man of patience. He reached down to tightly grasp the madman’s arms, hoisting him up and pushing him harshly against the wall. Stirring rage was clear in his eyes as he repeated the question, though the Joker could have sworn he saw a flash of tiredness, as well. But rather than relenting, Joker continued to play around, his grin still present and as derisive as ever. Where was the fun in giving in? “I don’t know. It seems to have slipped my mind…” He trailed off for effect, pulling amusement from Batman’s boiling anger.

Suddenly, a fist flew across his face, painfully cracking his jaw as his face snapped to the left in response to the blow. Ah, he had reached Batman’s physical force. The Joker was, of course, ecstatic. “What, Batsy? Already wanting me? Ah, ah, ah, darling, that’s a bad bat.” He reprimanded him cheerfully, his eyes practically glowing with the desire of pain, the wish for chaos. He wanted permanent marks from Batman; but even a psychopath like him could recognize that they would only stay temporary, if he were to remain confined in the asylum.

He needed to get out.

He needed to catch his attention again, make it worse than before.

A thought then spontaneously surfaced from the reeling storm in his mind; a promise, replaying clear as day. A promise to cut back on his sporadic murders, his random killings, the exploding of buildings.

 

> _All the things I resisted_

 

Right. Well, he kept the promise for as long he could. Things aren’t made to last forever, after all. What did one expect from a psychopath? Complete devotion? Laughable. Hell, even love was considerable. Though, with the promise now in his mind, the extra anger he was facing made complete sense.

 

> _Now far from gone (far from gone)_

 

Before he could begin to plot a rough draft of a plan, he exhaled sharply as a blow was directed at his stomach, unable to collect his breath for a moment. Ah, right, his Bats was paying him a visit. Pain now, plan later.

“Now, now, Batsy, baby, stop looking at me like that. I’m no monster; I’m just ahead of the curve."

* * *

 The police sirens were light squeals from a mouse among the city’s constant noise, hardly able to be heard. But nevertheless, they were present, and searching for a shadow. But how would they find it, if shadows vanish without the presence of light?

All the frantic officers knew was that a shadow never truly disappears.

But they were far too late; they did not stand a chance in their search, for night has fallen.

They did not have until sunrise no longer- they were useless, now.

Only another creature of the night could navigate through the dark.

The Joker was perched on the rooftop of a dilapidated building that had previously been a dwelling, kicking his legs childishly over the crumbling edge. He no longer sported an orange jumpsuit that had him recognized as an Arkham patient; instead, he donned a nicely ironed purple suit, a flower pinned on the right side of his equally purple suit jacket.

It was lightly raining, the drops falling almost leisurely to the ground.

His green eyes shimmered with chaotic glee as he stared down upon the explosives aesthetically surrounding the building he was occupying; the fireworks were yet to come.

And he had lucky guests waiting inside for the show to begin.

Well, they may all be tied together. And they perhaps are dead, with massive, bloody smiles carved into their emotionless faces. But they still count as witnesses in the Joker’s mind.

But before the display could begin, he still had to wait on one more guest- Batman. It’d be nice to share the experience.

Too bad the police could not attend; they were too slow.

He felt the drizzling rain come down faster, transitioning into a steady, rapid fall. A puddle was quick to form on the ground below him, and he was tempted to jump off the roof, try and perfectly land in the middle of it. Maybe he’d sink through, and plummet into a different universe. How wonderful that would be.

He caught sight of his reflection in the spreading puddle, tilting his head and giggling ecstatically when his reflection did the same. “My, my, how handsome you are!” He exclaimed, grinning crazily. His lips formed into a pout upon realizing that the rain was dampening his coiffed hair, ruining the work he had put into the style. “You don’t look as cute anymore,” He mumbled quietly, sighing playfully.

‘Why are you so invested in yourself, now?’ The reflection seemed to ask.

The Joker frowned. “Whatever do you mean? I’m talking about your appearance, not mine.”

The reflection frowned right back at him, seemingly disappointed. ‘That’s not what I’m getting at. You know what I’m talking about.’

Oh, he did.

 

> _Armor on, you use your heart as a fortress_

 

But rather than answering, he faced away from the puddle, huffing. “I’m not talking to you, anymore,” he muttered.

He failed to hear a thud behind him, but nevertheless felt a familiar presence towering over him; he had quite the uncanny ability to predict when Batman was around.

Glancing up over his shoulder, the smudged red lipstick turned upwards into an eerily cheerful smile. “Batsy! I see you’ve found me. Is this the part in which you kiss me?” He puckered his lips.

In a matter of seconds, he found himself rolling swiftly to the side as a fist came down, effortlessly breaking off the section of the roof that the Joker had been on. The Joker gracefully got to his feet, clicking his tongue. “Bad Batsy, this isn’t how the scene goes.”

Batman took a step toward him, before stopping- the Joker had delved into his pocket to pull out a small device, containing an ominous button. “Ah, ah, ah,” The clown teased, using the device for a reprimanding gesture. “As much as I love when you put your hands on me, you don’t want to come any closer.”

There was momentary silence before the vigilante took another step. The Joker raised an eyebrow challengingly, his smile growing. Their eyes were locked on one another, attempting to decipher just what _the hell_ their next move was going to be, as the rain beat down on them, soaking whatever it could reach of Batman’s suit, and efficiently causing Joker’s makeup to run, creating a terrifying masterpiece.

And then Batman was stepping forward, and the Joker quickly raised the device, his thumb coming over the button. Batman then began to _charge_ , and the Joker only grinned maddeningly before pressing harshly down on the button, and then-

Nothing. The Clown Prince of Crime’s grin dropped as he eyed the device; the rain had gotten to it. Huh.

The madman shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, tossing the device off the roof. “How’s that for a High Card?” He joked, a freakish giggle slipping past his lips.

 

> _Ticking bombs, all the weapons are useless_

 

And then the Joker found his back pressed against the uneven tiles of the roof, Batman having hooked his ankle around the criminal’s leg before swiftly pulling, causing the infamous man to crumple. “Ah, a battle in the rain? How romantic.” The Joker batted his eyelashes cutely before rolling to his left, again dodging Batman’s fist. He began to run toward a hole in the roof; if he were to drop down, he would have easy access to whatever he had left down there.

Was he expected to remember?

He could hear Batman close behind, and felt excitement swell in his chest, felt a pleasurable chill inch down his spine at the thought of the pain he’d feel if Batman got a hold on him.

The hole in the roof wasn’t too far; he’d reach it with a jump. It had to be calculated, however- one wrong move, and his skin would painfully scrape across the hole’s jagged corners.  Cackling, he yelled out, “Loving the rush, Bats? I sure am!” The notorious clown then took a dangerous leap at the hole, hardly missing the dangerous corners by the slightest before dropping into the room below the roof.

He got up and hurriedly brushed himself off, before sweeping down into a low bow. “Well done, I say,” He murmured to himself.

Time was limited.

Scanning the room for helpful supplies that would aid in the moment, the Joker’s eyes lit up in an unearthly, enchanting way when they settled on tough rope. Perfect.

Shortly after the Dark Knight had dropped down, the Joker had managed to restrain him with the rope after a “small” dispute; the egregious criminal beamed down at his captured prize, ignoring the fiery pain in his ribs, and the inability to move his fingers on his left hand without feeling jarring agony.

He now straddled the Bat’s hips, choosing to be ignorant toward the suffering protests of his aching fingers as he rested his hands on either side of the Bat’s masked face. “Christmas came early for me, it seems _. Feliz navidad_!” The Joker giggled merrily, amused with the situation. “I wonder what I should do with this present of mine…”

His eyes proceeded to light up like a candle’s flame, an interesting idea rising above the swarm of cataclysmic thoughts. “Hey, Batsy, it seems a mistletoe is hanging above us!” The heinous mastermind pointed up at the imaginary plant, grinning from ear to ear. “Pucker up, darling.”

The Joker began to lean down, his red lips crinkled to deliver a kiss, his absinthe eyes glowing as they remained locked on Batman’s own piercing artic irises, which considered the male on top of him with heavy suspicion and uncertainty.

 

> _So, can you just let down your guard_

 

The vigilante let out a warning growl as the clown’s face came even closer, nothing short of menacing; the psychopath made no sign to stop his actions, and neither did Batman.

They both knew that the hero could easily break out of the trap, and easily turn the tables; the Bat was completely capable of handcuffing the psycho before dragging him back to Arkham.  But instead, he remained still, and let his eyes flutter shut as their lips met.

 

> _Before everything is marred_

 

After all, it was simply a game that the two played. A show to fool the world, to fool themselves, to pretend that nothing’s changed, though their emotions stood as contradicting evidence, searing into their minds whenever they came into contact.

They both were too stubborn to realize the truth, to recognize that they couldn’t go back to how they were before; adversaries.

Strict, quintessential forces of chaos and order had come together in a different path.

But nevertheless, they push away their thoughts, instead focusing on solely the present, never considering it of anything more.

They could only prepare so much for an inevitable finish, when both refused to face it.

 

> _I move on, you use your heart as a fortress_

* * *

 The Joker found himself in a small, comfortable room, being scrutinized by his newest therapist.

He had his feet propped up on the couch he was resting on, toying with a small object; a circular pin, with the Batman symbol printed on it.

 

> _How’d you get so far away from me?_

 

He wanted to bring the pin’s sharp edge to the tip of his index finger, cause beads of red to surface, but he refrained; he didn’t wish to be immediately put under electroshock therapy again. He already had enough of the idiotic pills they gave him.

The therapist gently cleared her throat to capture the clown’s attention; upon failing to, she tried once more, slightly louder.

And to no avail.

Sighing, she chose to just speak, hoping that he would listen and still participate.

“Jack Napier?”

An insidious smile settled on his lips- what a name.

The therapist continued, taking the malicious grin as an acknowledgement.

“Where is the line between insanity and creativity for you, Mr. Napier?”

Oh, how the Dark Knight’s arch-nemesis hated Arkham. He wanted to roam the streets again, wreak havoc on civilians, make citizens as lovely as he was; they seemed so dull at times.

 

> “ _Let’s put a smile on that face_.”

 

The malevolent thoughts in him kept gnawing at his mind, driving him crazy with want. He wanted to get out, to steal, to murder, to destroy, to erupt, to break, to harm-

He wanted to see.

To see Gotham fall to her knees before him, begging for mercy, with no help from his Batsy. Oh, how pretty she’d be.

‘His?’ He questioned himself in a different perspective, skeptical.

‘Mine,’ he replied to what wasn’t there.

Always his.

Though the words held nothing but an empty vow.

 

> _Armor on, you use your heart as a fortress_

* * *

“Is that a gun in your pants, or are you just excited to see me?” The Joker’s mocking remark lingered in the air, carried by a nonexistent breeze. He sounded weaker; he reprimanded himself mentally, irritated with his debilitated state. Arkham’s “treatments” were really getting to him.

He was settled on the top of the Wayne building, perched on the edge as he viewed the city’s brilliant lights. He admitted that it was fascinating, but explosions could work, too.

The Dark Knight stood tall behind him; ironically, he stood on his own enterprise.

Batman didn’t reply; instead, the vigilante sat down beside the Clown Prince, silently looking down at Gotham glimmering beneath their feet.

It was oddly peaceful, up there; the two males, complete opposites, sitting side by side beneath the stars while comfortably cloaked in the darkness, staring down at the marvelous view of their shared city.

Time seemed to have stopped.

 

> _Ticking bombs, all the weapons are useless_

 

The Joker’s gaze flickered to the figure beside him.

The Dark Knight seemed exhausted.

He wondered if the righteous male was also as tired as him.

 

> _You use your heart as a fortress_

 

The clown’s eyes then drifted down, settling on the Bat’s hand gripping the edge of the building, almost as if he were grounding himself to reality.

He didn’t think when he placed a gloved hand over Batman’s.

A frown engraved itself onto his face when Batman automatically pulled away, his hand balling instinctively into a fist.

 

> _So, can you just let down your guard_

 

The Joker dismissed the silent threat, taking the vigilante’s fist into his own hands, uncurling his fingers slowly before intertwining his gloved fingers with the hero’s.

Batman had tensed during the action, and remained cautious, even as the Joker faced Gotham again.

At last, the righteous figure lost his tension, shifting to a more proper sitting position beside the notorious criminal.

The cautiousness was still there, but it was to be expected; the Bat has seen too much.

And so, it was fine by the Clown Prince- after all, his own thoughts were in disarray.

 

> _Before everything is marred_

 

He realized his mind was now a calm ocean, the waves only occasionally becoming wild, before relaxing and returning to the sea.

The chamber that his mind was had allowed a moment of peace from the chaotic storm.

It was peculiar- yes, that was the word, yet, his world was never meant to be normal.

 

> _Armor on, you use your heart as a fortress_

 

He glanced over at the other male, spotting a suspicion of a tranquil smile on his face.

The two opposite forces were complete.

 

 

And that small reminder told them it was all they needed.


End file.
